


Maybe Midnight

by ladyofdecember



Series: Underneath The Clear Blue Sky [2]
Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Major Spoilers, Mentions of Brock and Wariana, Mentions of The Monarch and Dr. Mrs. of course, keeping secrets, season 6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-23 14:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6119705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofdecember/pseuds/ladyofdecember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He was kissing this man, this mysterious stranger, this 'M'. And it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before."</p><p>Things are happening to Rusty Venture that have never happened before. He meets a mysterious man known only as "The Blue Morpho" and things get interesting. Should he even trust him? Set directly after "Rapacity In Blue".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Had to write this after watching the last episode. Good god. So obvious spoiler alert if you haven't seen all of this season yet. But if you've come this far, you're too far gone. Better just give up and give in.
> 
> The Monarch is parading as The Blue Morpho. Rusty doesn't know that obviously. He thinks he may be the old Blue Morpho for like 0.2 seconds but then realizes this is just some schmo parading around in the guy's clothes.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. This night was not turning out as he had first expected it to. Rusty was sitting in a small chair, tucked into the corner of the busy coffeehouse across from a man whom he had at first thought he recognized but later realized was just a complete stranger to him.

Said man was tall, dark and handsome, dressed currently in a blue long sleeved collared shirt, complete with dark navy dress pants. His face, covered in a dark blue mask and his hair was slicked back with a touch of style only men of the 1940's had ever been able to accomplish. But the hat, the hat was what completed the look really.

This mysterious stranger and he had somehow found themselves venturing blocks away from his building and over to this quaint little coffeehouse. Rusty wasn't sure why, he was only certain that the man in front of him had some sort of control over him. He wasn't talking about the mind controlling kind, god no, for once he was glad to actually be away from all of that craziness. The kind of constant threats of danger and insane arch enemies chasing you down was in his past. He had moved on, evolved, changed.

He was living a new life now, in a new city and it was glorious. He couldn't be happier. His only complaints, maybe, if he were hard pressed to choose would be the fact that it seemed harder than he had expected to actually manage and run a company and not just do whatever the hell you want. The Pirate's voice sounded in his head reminded him of the shareholders that relied on him. Besides the mundane new life of paperwork and actually having a job he had found thrust upon him, life was pretty great right now for old Rusty Venture.

Blinking a few times and bringing himself back to the present, Rusty glanced up at the man who would only refer to himself as “The Blue Morpho”. He'd asked, repeatedly, just who he was and had been refused each time any explanation. He'd demanded one and so the man had led him here so they could sit and discuss.

They'd met the previous night, the man helping him up from the street after having been not-so-kindly asked to vacate his neighbor's building. At first glance, he could have sworn he was the same man who had haunted his childhood memories, some of the last few good ones he had of his father. The Blue Morpho was a man his father had been close friends with, if only briefly. They shared many similarities between them and could be seen out together wherever although usually that meant because the man was “arching” his father. 

Still, Rusty knew the truth. The man had shown the utmost care and concern for him when he was little, going so far even as to tuck him in at night once or twice. He always seemed kind though he still left a bad taste in his mouth for his sheer participation in the whole “costumed-business” thing his father went through.

He watched the man before him, sipping from his paper cup. He was youthful, though not too young as apparent by the tiny laugh lines surrounding his lips. The mask hid much of his eye area but Rusty suspected if it were to be removed, the lines of age would be present there as well. This was not the same man Rusty had known for the brief period so many decades before. This man couldn't be any older than he.

“So, are you going to explain yourself now or what?”

He'd asked not so much out of frustration but really more curiosity. His bark was worse than his bite.

The red haired man smirked, setting his coffee carefully down on the small table between them. His eyes flicked up towards his own and the sly smile remained.

Rusty shifted in his seat, clutching at his own coffee. He was beginning to feel unnerved.

“I don't think it's important.”

The man's voice seemed familiar and yet still he couldn't place it. “Well, at least you can tell me what you want then. Why the interest in me or the arches I have?”

“They're not very good, obviously. But still, I think you need better protection than you have.”

Rusty blinked at him in confusion as the man sipped his coffee some more. He glanced around the shop and realized that most of the other customers were beginning to leave. They must be closing. Glancing at his watch he realized with a start that it was nearing 11pm.

Turning his attention back to the stranger, he sat up a little straighter. “How would you know what kind of protection I have? Look, don't worry about it, okay? I'm plenty protected. In fact, they're probably wondering where I am right about now.”

The man in blue finished his coffee and set it down between them. “Your protection would have worked for you before but not now, not with these assholes.”

Rusty was struck by the sudden language of the man who, up until this point, had been so eloquent with his words. “You think they're dangerous?”

“I know they are. Not too dangerous for me. But certainly, for you. You need my protection. So, I'm providing it. It's as simple as that.”

He glanced up then and met the scientist's confused gaze head on with a kind look in his eye and Rusty suddenly felt warm and at ease, his suspicions diminishing.

He let the thoughts roll over his head for a moment as he studied the man. A barista passed by them then as she was sweeping up and he was reminding him that they'd need to be leaving soon. “Well, it looks like they're closing.”

The man made no movements to leave and instead just sat staring at him intently. He looked like he wanted to say something but kept his mouth shut.

Rusty wished he would say something. Finishing his coffee and standing up, he turned to the man decisively, “Shall we?”

…

Making their way down the late night streets, they strolled together, walking slowly as each felt they needed to say something but neither wanted to be the first.

After a block or two, the taller man stopped and faced him, now wearing the same long, blue overcoat that he'd worn the night they'd met. Rusty stopped and turned to him expectantly.

“You may feel safe but you're not. You have no idea who you're dealing with. You think this is all a game but they are high level Guild associates.”

Rusty scoffed. “Right. And how exactly am I supposed to trust you? I don't even know you! You just show up and refuse to give me any answers-”

“I'm giving you answers right now, moron!” Blue Morpho interrupted him angrily. 

Laughing at the ridiculous nature of the night, Rusty turned to walk away from the man. “Right. Well, I'll keep you in mind then, Morph or whatever your name is, the next time I'm in the need of a bodyguard.”

He was only a few steps away from him before he felt the familiar sting of a hard placed hand wrapping around his bicep, yanking him backwards. He stared up at the face of the man again feeling slighted.

“Hey!” he complained outraged.

“My name is... “ the man began but quickly became unsure of himself and he trailed off quietly.

He sighed, letting loose of the super scientist's arm, glancing at his feet. Rusty looked around the quiet neighborhood they'd been traipsing across and realized that they were alone. Oh, right. It was after eleven.

Then he looked back at the suddenly wary looking man in front of him.

“M.”

“I'm sorry?” Rusty asked, pulling a face.

“You can... you can just call me 'M', if you like.”

“Emm? Like Emily?” 

“No, you-!” Blue Morpho began to shout but stopped himself, sighing and pinching two fingers tiredly at the bridge of his nose. “Just 'M', like the letter? M?”

“Oh, right. Okay, 'M'. Is that for 'mysterious'?” he asked mockingly.

M shrugged and smirked at the shorter man. “Mmmaybe.”

And god help him, Rusty found himself laughing like an idiot, unable to stop it from escaping from his lips. He looked away in order to recover. When he looked back, it seemed as though this man, this 'M', was even closer than before.

The nerves came back. Rusty cleared his throat and glanced at his watch again. “Well, it's... getting late.”

M stepped closer still, intently staring down at him, his gaze unwavering. “What? Are you going to turn into some kind of pumpkin?”

“Well... no, but... uhh... “

Why was he so nervous suddenly? Why was he rambling? Dear god, he was pathetic. 'A strange man shows you attention and you fall apart at the seams? What a loser.' Rusty's internal thoughts reprimanded him.

M was leaning in to him now, closer and closer, having to bow a little to make up for the height difference. Rusty blinked a few times, unable to believe what was happening but after a moment he too stepped in closer to him.

Gentle lips were placed upon his own unsure and hesitant ones, which began to move gracefully against his own. 

He was kissing this man, this mysterious stranger, this 'M'. And it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

Hands found their way along his back, placed methodically and gently cascading across. His lips brushed M's as he began to kiss him back with a more needy response than he had before. He ran his hands up the back of his long coat. His hands traveled just up to the base of the man's neck, touching a bit of the gel which held his hair back in place, that which he could see anyway.

He found himself being pulled forward, closer and up against the man greedily. M's hands grasped his back and waist, wanting more and more of him.

They felt like teenagers, pawing and grasping at each other in the middle of street as they made out. Due to the late hour, a chill was beginning to fill the air and Rusty shivered a bit but mostly tried to ignore the cold, the heat between the two being more than captivating for his mind at the moment.

M moved his tongue against the shorter man's slowly and methodically. He smiled a little when he felt the man reciprocate. Feeling a little lightheaded, he realized they'd have to break apart soon for air. Slowly, he eased back with a gentleness, letting his hands graze the man's sides as he stepped away.

Rusty took a deep breath, feeling like a gaping fish out of water. He looked up at the man and their eyes locked as they each chuckled bashfully and looked away.

Each of them dizzy with emotion, they stood like that for a moment just glancing around. The super scientist began to shiver again from the cold.

“Oh, you're... uh, here!” M threw off his coat and placed it around his bony shoulders. “There.”

Rusty smiled, suddenly filled with a warmth on the inside now as well as the outside. He pulled the coat closer to him as he peered upwards at him. “Uh... thank you.”

M smiled. “You're welcome.”

Was this crazy? Was this really happening? He didn't know. This was probably some great, epic dream he was having. He was down in the basement, having fallen asleep while White and Billy argued over who got to order the most toppings on their pizza deal. This couldn't be real.

Feeling nervous and giddy and all those wonderful things you feel when you first meet someone you really want to spend the rest of your days getting to know, Rusty bit his lip as he contemplated something. He watched his shoes for a moment as he let the possibilities add up in his mind.

Finally, finding courage, he glanced up at the tall man. “Shall we uh... go back to my place?”

It was a hesitant question, one he tried to deliver levelly even though his insides felt all squishy. He felt confident in the answer though. It was the after part that he was all nerves for.

A crestfallen look overtook M's quite happy one he'd held up to that point. Oh no. What did he do to scare that beautiful expression away? He'd fucked up.

M sighed and glanced away, a remorseful look playing on his features. When he looked back at the other man's expression it doubled. He looked so hopeful, so shy and yet so determined.

He couldn't do this.

M cleared his throat frowned. “I... really should be going. I have to... uh... I have stuff, to work out.”

Rusty blinked, taken back. “Oh. Right.” He nodded and tried to quell the sudden rise of disappointment mixed with heartbreak. “Me too, really.”

M looked troubled, like he did back at the coffeehouse. He wanted to say something but kept his mouth firmly shut, his lips forming a tight seal. His eyes even took on a look of ruefulness. 

“Well... goodbye then.” Rusty mumbled quickly, moving to shove past the man and try to forget his sorrows in a bottle of red.

M grabbed him again, a hand on either side of him, grasping his arms to hold him firmly in place in front of him. He kissed him again out of desperation, not wanting the moment they'd shared to just vanish so quickly. He kissed him roughly and full force, grabbing at his back once more to pull him in closer, if only just for a second.

He pulled away leaving him breathless and smiled ruefully. “I'll... see ya around?”

It took a moment for Rusty to regain his ground, as he stood up a little straighter and focused on not falling down. He looked up into M's eyes and smiled. “You better.” 

He left then, making his way down the street and rounding a corner. Rusty continued on his way as well, back towards back towards his grandfather's building. It wasn't more than a minute however before his watch began beeping and suddenly Brock's angry face was on screen.

“Where the hell did you go?”

Rusty waived him off. “Nowhere, just out. I wanted some coffee.”  


“It's midnight.”

“So?”

Brock ran a hand down his face. “So?! Doc, it's midnight, you're a multi-billionaire with several archenemies, all of who would love to find you alone on a dark street corner to-”

“Uh-bup-bup-bup! I hear you Brock but really, I can take care of myself. I'm not completely pathetic, you know.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind. “Where are you?”

“I'm like a few streets away. I'll be there soon.”

“Fine.” The younger man looked like he was pulling on a coat. “I'll meet you outside.” he said and shut off the transmission.

Rusty let his mind roam back to M and his coffeehouse adventure. He wondered when he'd see him again. He wondered where he was off to himself. Damn, was he a good kisser. Was that just how people kissed now? Had he been out of the game so long that people were just amazing now?

He briefly wondered if the man (and Brock really) were right. Was he in serious danger now? Maybe he should take more precaution. Maybe he should be wary of men who lure him out late at night to make out with.

Still, he was a great kisser. Maybe next time they could meet in a more secure and private location. Maybe next time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prisoner of your love  
> Entangled in your web  
> Hot whispers in the night  
> I'm captured by your spell  
> Oh yes I'm touched by this show of emotion  
> Should I be fractured by your lack of devotion  
> Should I, should I?  
> \-- Better Be Good To Me, Tina Turner

It was stupid. Really, all of it. The Monarch leaned against the kitchen table, chin resting on his hands, elbows planted on the wood surface as he sat. He was deep in thought. So deep in thought that he was completely oblivious to 21's coming and going in the kitchen as he cleaned and tidied up here and there.

Why was he so obsessed with the man? It was a question that had drove him almost mad for the last 20 years or so. He just couldn't help it. It seemed to be in his blood.

He shouldn't even be considering it. It was much too dangerous. He was going to recognize him. He wasn't stupid.

Although, Rusty Venture had never been one for faces. He could be pretty oblivious. He was also severely narcissistic and vain, often only paying attention to his needs and his wants. He ignored everyone around him. What a selfish prick.

So why did he like him? Why did he want to be around him? It would forever be a mystery.

“Hey, you're not gonna go out tonight and arch again, are ya?”

The booming voice filled the room, trying hard to overpower the sound of various drills and power tools that echoed from their living room.

The Monarch continued staring out straight ahead. If he heard the question his henchman had floated to him, he made no indication of it.

“Hello? Hey! I'm talking to you!” 21 angrily shouted, waving a hand in front of the man's face.

“Huh? Wha? Oh, uh, what did you say?” He asked, sitting up a little straighter.

“I was asking if you're going out again tonight? Because I think you need to rein it in a little.”

He blinked at the larger man slowly, his mind struggling to formulate a plan. “Uh, no, why would I?”

21 gave him a look so he continued, “No, of course not. You're right. I need to lay low for a while. I am, however, going to have to run to the cleaners. I have to get that thing dry cleaned. It smells like moth balls. And that's not a pun or anything. It literally smells like moth balls. It's gross.”

“Right. Well, just so you know, most cleaners close at like five.”

“Oh yeah? What time is it now?”

“3:50pm.”

“Oh shit!” The Monarch cried, jumping up from his chair and knocking it over.

…

Rusty sighed as he peered out at the city lights before him. The several buildings that surrounded their penthouse seemed to glitter in the night. Sitting in one of the poolside chairs under an umbrella which just seemed silly this late at night, he sipped at a glass of ridiculously overpriced red wine and contemplated how he'd managed to end up here, of all places?

There was a nice glow surrounding him near the pool, thanks to the various candles and lanterns strewn about. This place was really romantic, really beautiful. Too bad he had no one to share it with.

He sighed once more and gulped down the rest of the wine, the bitterness irritating his throat as he considered heading inside for another.

The thought of running into one of his sons and having to talk to them settled that decision for him right away. He wasn't in the mood to listen to complaints right now.

Seriously, how had he gotten here? They had everything now, money, power, all the finer things in life and yet, his sons were unhappy? They should be ecstatic! This was the life he'd always wanted to give them but had struggled to attain. 

It seemed as if, ever since arriving in New York, the two had done nothing but complain. And boy, was Hank becoming even more spoiled than he already had been. But that was another problem entirely.

Rusty turned and watched the water in the pool lightly swish around, disturbed by the small breeze that was blowing over their rooftop patio.

Everything really was beautiful.

Something inside his chest ached and he had to take a few deep breaths to settle his suddenly pounding heart. His mind temporarily worried that it was due to his former pill popping days but quickly let the thought dissipate. He was just prone to hypochondria. It was nothing, he was sure.

Still... the ache remained and he knew it was due to a profane sadness and dissatisfaction with his life in general. But what was the cure for that? 

He knew he should begin seeing a therapist again. But honestly, with the memories he had of his father being his therapist and the last guy he saw being murdered, he wasn't sure he was up for it again.

Feeling helpless and a bit forlorn, he sank down in the chair and crossed his arms over the Ambasciatore. The wind was beginning to pick up a little.

The future wasn't looking as bright as it used to. Every day that passed seemed to warn of a bleaker and bleaker one. When Rusty was in college, he'd had limitless dreams and ambitions. Finally having broke free of his father's oppressive grip on him and free to live the life he'd always wanted, every day seemed to have promise.

He'd done so many things there. He'd gotten to wear what he wanted for once, instead of being forced to wear a “uniform” of sorts, that Team Venture had insisted upon. He'd made friends there, real, honest to god friends. People who enjoyed his company and wanted to be around him. Amazing.

Although, for the first couple of months, he hadn't been able to shake the thought that his father had paid for them to pretend to be his friends. Crazy, I know, but he couldn't help but feel paranoid. Never having any friends as a kid did that to you. After a while, however, it became apparent that they were in fact real and honest.

Rusty remembered suddenly, the stowed away outside bar they had stationed up against the house. Briskly walking over to it, he pulled a face when all he found was whiskey and other hard liquor but, he supposed, it would have to do. He wasn't going back inside.

Filling a glass with a little too much of the stuff, he made himself comfortable once more in one of the chairs.

Bitterness filled him as he recalled the day he'd learned his father had died, the day when all his hopes and dreams had been ripped away from him. Sure, it may sound petty now, to look back on your parent's death and feel resentment. But, the man hadn't been a good father. Hell, he wasn't even an okay one.

Still, it wasn't his fault he'd died, and sometimes, when he was alone, Rusty allowed himself to feel the severity of the gaping hole in his chest that his only parent's death had left. He'd never admit it to anyone, or to most people, but he did miss his father. He had been the only family he'd ever known.

But then, suddenly, he'd found a whole new addition to his small family. But, he too, had been ripped away from him by death.

Rusty didn't think it was the best idea to continue this line of thinking. He was starting to get... dark thoughts again.

Drowning half the glass of the burning liquid, he pulled a face as he swallowed and had to blink several times to clear his vision. Not entirely sure if his eyes were watery from the drink or his depressing thoughts, he chose to believe the former, if only to protect his already fragile mind this night.

Silence all around him, he began to feel just how very alone he was. There were the sounds of various horns honking, as was customary in the city to occur at all hours, but they were faded and distant, far down below. Up here, he was alone. The air around him seemed repulsive, the beautiful night tarnished with the thoughts of his past.

Finishing the rest of the whiskey, his mind immediately screamed to him to fill another glass, though by this point his body seemed to want to lag behind. The effects of the alcohol were getting to him already.

Just as he'd stumbled up from his seat and faced the house, the sound of footsteps cascaded on the cement behind him. Slowly turning to face the person, he was immediately met with the sheepish grin of a blue masked man.

“Uh... hi.”

Rusty blinked drunkenly at the man. It was a bit dark but he could still make out that this was M, the masked stranger who he'd made out with before. But that had been weeks ago and honestly, he hadn't thought he'd be seeing him again.

Remembering how quickly he'd gotten swept up with the man before and how alarming it was that he'd let down his guard so quickly, Rusty took an unconscious step back from the man. He hadn't even been drinking that night, well not that much, and he'd pretty much done everything but given him his social security number.

Rusty worried he was not in the right mind to be around this... this stranger. He half turned back towards the house, wondering if Brock would be back from his girlfriend's anytime soon. Likely not.

“So... am I interrupting?” M asked, confused by the way the man hadn't yet responding. He was currently suspiciously looking over his shoulder at the penthouse.

“Oh... uh... no. Not really.” He said and tried to shrug nonchalantly but ended up just looking all hunched up in the shoulder area.

M took a step forward but stopped when Rusty's eyes widened. “Are you okay?”

He didn't pause to give the super scientist time to answer, instead his eyes flickered over his shoulder at the bar whose cabinets were all opened, its' glasses pulled out and various liquor bottles shuffled about. “Ah. Having a bit of a late night drink, are we?”

M smirked, hands on his hips, the blue material of the suit crinkling slightly from the movement. Rusty seemed to relax for the moment and let out a breath he had been holding.

He smirked. “Well, yes a few. It is, after all, saturday night.”

“May I?”

Rusty was surprised but stood aside to allow the man access to the bar. He watched in fascination as he made himself a martini, minus the olive, of course.

“What, no olives? What is this?” M complained.

Rusty smiled at the man, feeling more and more comfortable by the minute. “Who are you?”

“What? You don't like martinis?” He shrugged, sipping at the drink. “Here, I'll make ya one.”

He set his glass down on the bar and went about making a second. When he handed it to Rusty, the scientist just beamed at him, touched by the gesture. His eyes followed the taller man out towards the pool as he began walking about the rooftop, sipping here and there at his drink.

“This place is nice.”

Rusty joined him, tasting the drink appreciatively. “Yes. It's beautiful out here.”

“It'd be better without that view though.” M said, gesturing across the street towards Wide Whale's building. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he seemed to scope out the area.

Shrugging, Rusty sipped at his martini again. “Well, whatcha gonna do?”

“You're not worried?” M spun around to face him, eyes scrutinizing his features.

Blinking at the man blearily, he recalled their previous conversation about the dangers of the villains in the building. Rusty found the alcohol sinking in more and more and began to struggle to even stand up straight without wobbling so he simply shrugged in response.

M let the topic drop and strolled around a bit more, enjoying the aesthetics of the environment. This place was much too nice to be his doing. He must have had landscapers decorate and design it all. Suddenly, a wicked smile crossed his face. He spun around to face his friend.

“Hey... is that what I think it is, hiding over there in the corner?”

Rusty blinked at him, struggling to keep up with both the pace of the conversation and the pace of the man himself. Coming a bit closer, he realized just what he was referring to.

“The hot tub? Yeah, it's a... pretty neat.”

“Ya wanna try it out?” M asked, eyebrows wiggling, though the hat and mask covered them up so Rusty wasn't able to see.

“Uh... “ Rusty paused. He hadn't actually used the thing since they'd moved in. Did it even work? Of course, the pool did but-

“Oh, alright, you spoil sport. But next time! Next time, have your trunks ready because we are enjoying the hell outta that thing!” M carried on, drinking his martini down and emptying the glass. He thought about making another. Then again, he should really be heading back home before he was caught. 

“Well, thanks for the drink. I should get going-”

“Wait!” Rusty fumbled, glass in hand and ended up sloshing some of the alcohol onto the pavement beneath them.

M looked irritated. “Hey, that stuff is pretty pricey. How about you drink it instead of spilling it everywhere?”

Feeling embarrassed and clumsy as all get up, Rusty moved to set the drink down on a nearby table. “Look, don't go yet. I can get you another drink.”

“Ehh... it's getting late. I'm not... uh, I'm not supposed to be out late like this.” 

The masked man suddenly seemed disheartened as he set his glass down as well. Rusty wanted to bring the joyous smile back to his pleasant face once more.

“Well, you can stay a bit longer, can't you? I was really, kind of down before and now you're here and uh... I'm not, anymore.” 

He stumbled over his words both because of his slightly drunken state but also from the sheer honesty of the statements. He wasn't used to this, being so open with someone.

M looked concerned. “Why were you down? What's wrong?”

“I don't know, nothing really. Or everything. I don't really know. I just know that something's not right. Something's missing.”

“Believe me, I understand completely.” The man nodded, feeling a deep connection with the scientist. He took a step closer to him. “You and I, we're not so different.”

Rusty blinked up at him, feeling the same sort of nervousness come on from before. He held his breath in anticipation of how the next several moments may play out.

M looked down at him, the way he looked under the full moon above them. The way his eyes shone, all glassy and big and bright. The way his skin seemed flushed either from the massive amount of alcohol he'd had or just... because. He looked hopeful, he looked... happy, much happier than he'd looked when he first arrived.

This might have been stupid, his wife may find out, his henchman may realize he'd taken much too long at the cleaners but fuck it, right?

And so he leaned in and kissed the man once more, bunching together bits of the fabric from this, whatever this thing was, speedsuit he guessed. He pulled the man closer, deepening the kiss and was pleased when Rusty reached up and grabbed him to pull him closer as well.

It was perfect, a night like this, under the moon, surrounded by candle light? Are you kidding me? The only thing they needed were fireworks. And then, even that, may have been too much.

He moved his lips against the man's own, putting adequate pressure against them before slowly maneuvering his tongue out to brush against them, asking for entry.

Rusty parted his lips in the kiss and M began stroking his tongue with his, moving circles around it. Moaning into the kiss, Rusty groped at M's backside to bring him even closer.

Suddenly, the rapid sounds of a drum beat surrounded them, causing M to pull back and break away from him entirely. He spun around and reached into a pocket of the suit, pulling out what looked to be a smart phone.

Rusty blinked in confusion. This man who dressed in suits that looked like the 1960's and drank martinis carried a smart phone? Interesting.

He smirked at him. What a strange guy. M faced him once more, having silenced the ringer and hidden the phone once more. He looked torn and frowned apologetically.

“I uh... I have to go.”

“What? No... don't go.” Rusty stepped all the way up to the man and pulled him close once more. He leaned up on his tiptoes to whisper in his ear wickedly. “I still have to show you the upstairs area.”

M gulped and backed away quickly. “Oh, well you know, it's late. I have to... uh... I have to go. But, a raincheck! Definitely! Definitely, next time!”

He gave him a worried smile and then dashed over to the edge of the rooftop. He paused in front of the hedges that surrounded the ledge and turned to look back at the scientist. 

Rusty blinked at him in confusion. Just what was he up to?

M grinned at him again before stepping up onto the bushes and swan diving off the side. Rusty nearly fainted in shock but instead willed himself to race over to the edge of the roof himself.

He leaned down carefully to peer over at the street below. His heart thudded loudly in his chest as he worriedly searched for the man's silhouette as he fell to his death.

But instead, he caught sight of him soaring majestically away from the building. Two large blue wings had shot out from under his suit jacket and were currently flapping back and forth to carry him safely away.

Rusty was shocked. He watched for a little while longer until he could no longer see the man.

He slowly turned to go inside, deciding it best to get some shut eye. Maybe he could make better sense of everything tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

He'd dreamt of wings, long majestic, blue wings. Like those of a... dragonfly maybe? He'd been enjoying the sights of a museum downtown and then suddenly whisked away to some kind of circus with all kinds of animals surrounding him and his boys. Dreams were like that, whisking you from scene to scene and making absolutely no sense.

When Rusty awoke in the morning, he found himself battling the worst hangover of his life. He held his head in his hands, trying desperately for his headache to cease, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. The sun was up, this much he knew.

Damn his brother for programming the shades to be automatic and timed. He still hadn't figured out that damn computer system. At least the alarm of his deceased sibling didn't wake him every day, just on those with scheduled events from the man's calendar, wherever that was stored. He had to remember to yell at The Captain to fix it later. Monday, whatever.

For now, it was sunday morning and he was hung over. He needed a bloody mary, bad.

Stumbling out of bed and trying to keep the sunlight blocked out of his sight while also stumbling through the room to get to his door, he was having difficulties.

Finally, making his way out to the hallway, he headed downstairs.

...

The penthouse looked and sounded to be deserted until he actually reached the kitchen. Dean was eating cereal calmly at the table while scrolling through his jPad.

As Rusty slumped down into the booth next to him, he turned to greet his father, mouthful of cereal.

Putting his head in his hands again, he mumbled, “Don't talk with your mouth full, son.”

H.E.L.PeR beeped and booped over to him, pouring a cup of Caffix for him.

He sat up then and looked disparagingly down at it. “Ugh. Oh god, not this stuff again. Any chance we have some real coffee?”

His long time friend beeped a series of regrettable sounds and the super scientist rolled his eyes. “Of course not.”

Dean finished his cereal and slid out of the booth to wash his dishes.

“So, Dean, what's on the agenda today?” He asked, glancing at the boy's tablet and the social media feed he'd been preoccupied with.

“Oh nothing much. Going to meet Mark at the park.”

“This... 'Mark', he's not trying to take advantage of you, is he? Of your money?”

The dark haired boy glared. “What?! No! He's not like that! God, you don't understand anything!”

And with that, he was gone, heading down to the lobby in the elevator. Rusty sighed. Teenage boys, he couldn't win.

H.E.L.PeR appeared once more with a plate of scrambled eggs sloppily put together but appeared to be better than some of his previous dishes. 

He took it gratefully from his friend and smiled. “Thanks, H.E.L.PeR.”

...

It was a spectacular party, one of his best. It was a night filled with fun and dancing. Everyone was having such a great time.

As captivating as the night was, filled with drinking, Rusty found himself drunk on something else. It was the pure and unwavering direct attention that was being placed solely on him and him alone.

As the music's beat swung around the penthouse, the lights flashing rapidly in different colors, Rusty danced with M and couldn't help noticing the man's rapid attention being placed on him. He smiled, for once, having a great time. 

There was no danger currently, no threat of violence and no immediate worries. Even Brock, his normally serious bodyguard was having a ball as he danced with that new girlfriend of his over near the kitchen area.

Rusty had made a point to invite as many of his old friends and acquaintances as he could, feeling like he could use some camaraderie. Scanning the room as he turned mid moves, he let his eyes survey his guests to ensure they were all having a good time as well. 

Al was with Shore Leave doing some sort of waltz. Orpheus was leaning against the far wall and chatting with... James? Was that his name? The blackula hunter, whatever his name was.

The boys had been told they could attend if they'd wanted but since it planned to go late into the night, they were to excuse themselves and go upstairs at midnight for their curfew. Neither seemed to mind much and in fact, Rusty didn't even see either of them at the moment. Maybe they'd already gone to their rooms. It seemed late. What time was it even?

Rusty found his view blocked by M as he suddenly danced in front of him and waved a hand in his face. "Hey... we're dancing here. Where do you think you're goin'?"

He grinned that goofy grin Rusty found himself growing to love and matched it with one of his own. "Absolutely nowhere."

It was a good thing it was dark in the place, otherwise he might suspect some of his fellow party goers to raise a ruckus about “The Blue Morpho” being there. Then again, no one really paid attention to him or what was going on, not when they'd all been drinking so heavily. Even Brock, was preoccupied really.

The song playing overhead began to speed up it's beat as the song transitioned into a different one. White had at first been chosen to be put in charge of music due to his D.J.ing days but had quickly been replaced. He played far too much "80's".

Rusty wondered how long M would be staying this time. He'd gone a few days after that fuzzy night on the rooftop surrounded by candlelight without seeing the man. 

At first he'd worried that they had parted for good this time but purely by coincidence had come across the blue masked man once more. He'd been heading home from a short trip to the local bodega, you know, just out and about to get some fresh air when he'd heard a familiar voice call out to him.

"In a hurry to be somewhere?"

Whipping back towards the direction of the voice, Rusty spotted "The Blue Morpho" leaning against the wall of the VenTech Tower near him. He grinned and let the glass door close without a second glance, making his way over to the taller man.

"What are you doing here?"

M shrugged. "Thought I'd drop by. I had some time and... I dunno... I missed you." He finished and then sheepishly looked down at his feet. 

Rusty struggled a bit with his son's multiple glass bottled sodas in his arms, shifting them around before beaming up at him again. "Well... it has been a while. I gotta say, I thought maybe I scared you off, the way you just ran off the way you did. Not to mention, I can't really remember a lot of that night."

The mysterious man's smile faltered, replaced with an expression of worry. "No! It wasn't that! It's not that, I mean... "

He sighed and glanced around at the street around them. The circle was busy with traffic and people coming and going, the normal hustle and bustle of 4pm on a weekday. He worried about Sergeant Buttkiss who was no doubt sitting inside behind the security desk possibly recognizing him as well.

He worried the longer he remained there, out in public like this, the more likely he were to be caught. Glancing at Tophet Tower across the way, he wondered if they were being watched at that very moment.

His mind raced at all the different possibilities that they faced currently. Brock was probably upstairs and if not, he'd be home relatively soon. His wife could be anywhere currently. He had no idea where she even was today. She was all business, business, business now and he'd lost track of her day to day activities.

M bit his lip as he began to panic. He smiled apologetically at the man before him. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Look, maybe we'll continue this sometime later... over drinks!"

He turned to rush away, leaving a distraught Rusty behind. Was he ever going to get time with him?

That had been then.

But now, now M was here with him, dancing and having a great time. Sure, he'd had some to drink but even if he hadn't made some Doctails earlier, he'd still be having a great time.

M had moves, really good ones too. He wondered where he'd picked those up? 

Such an enigmatic person, this mysterious man in blue.

…

Rusty wasn't sure what to do. The man before him, dressed all in blue, was currently flirting with him, as they stood outside on the patio of his grandfather's building. At least he thinks he's flirting with him. He's still not entirely convinced that this isn't some idle daydream, a sort of wonderful hallucination like he used to get back in the day when he'd mixed too many pills with too many drinks. 

Thankfully, he'd been able to kick that habit. Though the lure of such things always loomed in the back of his mind, like an angry wolf.

"No, you'd look good in anything, I'm sure." M says, taking another sip of his martini, his eyes glued to the scientist like he was the only person in the whole world.

Rusty sipped at his cocktail and chuckled. "Well, I try to take care of myself. I-"

He stopped abruptly when the man leaned forward to lightly grip at either side of his jacket, pulling him gently closer to him.

"You know, I've been an admirer of yours for a very long time." The Blue Morpho said quietly, stepping even closer to him as he played with his clip on tie.

It was very... distracting. Rusty's breath caught in his throat. He swallowed nervously and looked up into the man's eyes, the significant height difference never being lost on him.

"I'm glad I came to this party. Perhaps, now I can get you all to myself finally." He continued, the hint of a smirk playing across his features.

Okay, scratch that, he was definitely flirting with him. There was no mistaking that now. And they had kissed already, multiple times in fact. Maybe he just had low self-esteem so it was difficult for him to believe in anything good actually happening.

Rusty tried smiling back in what he hoped was a flirtatious manner but it still came off as uneasy and kind of nervous. "Oh, is that right?"

"You're a very hard man to get alone."

"Well, I... I'm an important man. I have to be protected, you know."

Rusty was doing what he did best, making himself sound more important than he actually was. It was his one move, his only move and he hoped it was landing.

The taller man smirked, a wicked look crossing his features as his voice took on a particularly darker sound. "What'll you do now that you're out here all alone with me?"

A shocked look came across the scientist's features that only intensified when the man leaned forward more and whispered in his ear. "Who's going to protect you now, Rusty?"

His deep voice so close to his ear caused him to involuntarily shiver and as the masked man shifted and grasped each of his arms to push him against the wall, he let out a small gasp. This side of the man was surprising, having been so suave and even a little flippant in their previous interactions before. This side of the man was... rough and perhaps a little dominating.

The man's lips coveted his own, pushing firmly against them as he kissed him. Rusty sank a bit against the wall, caught by surprise, as the man's tongue pleaded for access to his own.

M grasped at Rusty’s arms to help support and hold him up as the super scientist seemed to struggle to stand as he began to kiss him back. Opening his lips slightly, he quickly felt the brush of M's tongue cascading against his own.

Rusty felt his gloved hands reach up and grasp at his neck, pulling him even closer to deepen the kiss even more.

Inside the house, the music from the party continued, unaware of the goings on outside. It had been Rusty's intention to have the party spill outside around their fabulous pool. Fortunately, the chill in the night air had kept those penned inside.  
Things were finally looking up for Rusty Venture.

…

After what felt like forever, the two broke away from each other. The taller man's eyes watching him like a predator with it's prey and something about the situation suddenly seemed so familiar. Rusty blinked, the spell captivating him a moment ago broken, as he struggled to hone in on just what was so familiar about the man.

M smirked, proud of the events that had led them here. “What?”

“Something about this... something... about you... it's familiar. “ Rusty mumbled as he stared suspiciously up at his friend. The drinks he'd had earlier were beginning to wane a bit, just enough for his head to clear a little.

The man in blue frowned, panic now filling those gorgeous blue eyes he'd grown to love. “What? That's crazy! Come on, baby, don't worry so much.”

Rusty blinked at him. “What did you just say?”

M paled, or as much as he Rusty could see under that enormous mask. “Uh... “

The super scientist glared up at him. “Why do you constantly wear that thing anyway?”

Now it was his turn to be angered. “What do you mean? There are tons of Guild members after me, not to mention the O.S.I. and-”

“Oh come on, people aren't that interested in you! Besides, it's just you and me. Why won't you let me see who you really are?”

M turned towards the rest of the rooftop, letting his eyes dance over the shimmering pool and take in the soft lighting at the far ledge near the bushes. Perhaps it was time to come clean finally. After all, how much longer could he really expect to keep this charade up?

Damn, how had this gotten so far? How did he let it get so out of hand? It was really out of control now.

“Hey! Are you even listening to me?” Rusty called, irritated from his position behind him.

The Blue Morpho sighed, staring down at his feet. It couldn't work, it never would. Best to just forget it.

He faced the smaller man, looking miserable. “I... I can't.”

The scowl on the Venture's face disappeared immediately and was replaced with a blank slate. “What?”

“I can't tell you who I am. It's for your own good. I'm... I'm sorry I came here.”

And with that, he turned to go, storming away over to the ledge, the super scientist bounding after him.

“Wait! Don't go! I'm... I'm sorry I pushed it. Look, you want to keep your identity a secret, fine, I don't get it but fine. I just... I want to know more about you.”

When M turned around, he could swear he was dreaming. The lanterns nearby had been caught in the wind and so their patterns were now dancing along the concrete beneath their feet. Lights from the party inside were trying desperately to join their dance along the rooftop as well, stretching out as far as possible to meet them.

Rusty was looking up at him with a look in his eye that screamed desperate but also something else, something more like, wistfulness. M took one look at him and felt his heart swell, felt things he'd swore he had long ago forgotten about, forced himself to forget about.

He swallowed, unable to believe the scene unfolding before him. The full moon up above, which was slowly, day by day waning back down to a crescent once more, was now shining brightly, the clouds that had been covering it moving on.

Rusty noticed they were closer than before, the man having moved forward to meet his own hesitant steps.

And M kissed him again, but not roughly like before, more soft and demure. He reached up and cupped the sides of his face gently to deep the kiss only slightly. And Rusty swooned.

Pulling away, M made sure to look deep in his eyes to convey his message to the man. “I... care about you deeply. I'm... actually kind of afraid to admit this. But I do.”

He blinked up at the man, unable to believe what was happening. But then, he'd had trouble believing any of his life was real since coming to New York.

“I need some time to figure things out. It's nothing to do with you, not really. But I promise you, that my feelings are real and they do mean something.” 

M took a deep breath to try to clear away the heavy emotional fog that seemed to hang over them now. His eyes flicked past him and towards the party which continued uninterrupted. “You should go back in before someone suspects something. You have friends in there. They care about you.”

Rusty turned to face his home apathetically, much more interested with the scene out here. When he turned back around, M was standing on the ledge and staring at Tophet Tower silently. 

He took a few steps forward towards the man. “I want you to know... I care about you too.”

This caused the man to whip back around to face him, a smile crossing his face. “You do?”

Rusty wanted to laugh but it seemed inappropriate so he just said, “Of course I do! You're... mesmerizing.” 

The adjective seemed kind of dumb after he said it but he just couldn't find the words for... whatever this was.

“I... I don't want this to stop.” He finished lamely, shrugging.

M's smile grew, as he felt relief swell within him. “Then it won't.”

Rusty smiled up at him warmly as the wind picked up and blew at the man's long overcoat as he perched atop the precarious ledge.

“I'll be seeing you.” He said and then he was gone, sailing away and using the well designed and functional wings he kept hidden beneath his jacket.

As Rusty watched him, fly away, the memories of that previous drunken night flew back to him. And with a sudden, almost tangible realization, he had suspicions at to just who the masked man may be.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, I just noticed this last update was a year and a half ago. I have no excuses other than I forgot about the premise and where it was going. But man, this story is very dear to my heart now that I picked it back up. I mean, The Monarch and Rusty? Come on! What's not to love about that?

His head was pounding... again. How many mornings had he woken up with a hangover since coming to take over his brother's company? Too many.

Rusty sat up, palm pressed to his face, eyes tightly shut against the threatening daylight beyond his window shades. He'd finally gotten the damn alarms turned off so they didn't automatically open anymore right at 8am.

What time was it anyway?

A quick glance to his communicator watch and he swore loudly. It was nearly 11:30am! He pushed the heavy blankets and sheets off of himself, swung his legs over the side of the bed and rushed to his in-suite bathroom to get ready for the day.

…

“So I says to him, pally, all I want is the cronut!” White's voice hit his ears obnoxiously loud this morning before Rusty had even rounded the corner to their workspace.

Billy was there too already, of course, and they seemed to be sitting and eating tacos together.

“Heya Rust! Finally awake, huh?” The albino asked cheerfully.

“Fuck you.” The super scientist mumbled bitterly leading to a chorus of laughter from the two. He wasn't awake enough for this.

He slumped into a nearby chair and chugged the warm coffee from his “World's Best Scientist” mug. The scientist had been delicately crossed out by Dean and the word “Dad” written in red sharpie instead.

“Cute mug.” Billy quipped, finishing off his taco. “Late night out?”

“No... well, sort of? I had a party last night.”

The former surgeon glared at him. “I know. I was being facetious. We were there, you... you literally invited us! You don't remember?”

White crumpled up their garbage from their lunch and went to toss it into the nearby trash. “Don't bother, Billy. He was way too wasted to remember anything from last night.”

Rusty downed his coffee and slammed his mug on the table a little harder than he meant to. “Can we just get to work please?”

Billy scoffed. “Get to work? We've already finished the blueprints for the vacuum. We were just waiting for you!”

“Great. Then let's see them!”

White handed his FriendBoss the detailed design specs and shared a look of annoyance with Billy.

Shaking his head a bit to wake up more, Rusty focused his eyes to focus on the plans. They all looked good, jesus, why were his friends all more successful and more intelligent than him?

He gave them a smile and handed the pages back to White. “It all looks great, when do we roll them out?”

Billy shrugged. “That's up to you.”

He checked his watch for the time. It was going to be a long day.

…

It wasn't until after 7:30pm that the three parted ways, White threatening to quit if he didn't get some dinner soon and Rusty far too tired to just order delivery so they could keep working.

Hank and Dean were still out, probably with their respective beaus and Brock was who knows where, probably with his as well.

The house was cold and lonely now as he flipped on lights in each room he meandered through. His stomach rumbled as he remembered he'd barely ate all day due to his nausea. Dinner did sound nice.

As he passed the large window opening up towards their balcony/rooftop/faux yard, a thought lingered in his mind. Would he be getting another visit tonight from the masked crusader?

His heart beat faster, his mouth grew dry as he thought of the previous night alone with the man. He took a deep breath as he recalled his suspicions of just who he was. No, it couldn't be true. It wasn't. 

Grabbing the phone from the kitchen and one of the various take-out menus from the drawer, he put in an order for some indian food for one and went to sit on his living room couch.

The urge to pour himself a delicious glass of red wine was almost too tempting but he decided he'd need to forgo the alcohol for just a little while. Yes, perhaps that'd be best.

Rusty stared at his reflection in the shiny glass of the powered off television. He wondered just what J.J. would think could he see him now? Would he think he was doing a good job? An adequate one? Would he be disappointed that he, for all intents of and purposes, still seemed to be living the same exact life as before?

Taking a deep breath, Rusty turned to look towards the door leading out onto the roof. Perhaps, not everything was the same as before. Perhaps, it didn't have to be.

…

Rusty sat perched in one of his deck chairs next to his well-lit pool, surrounded by the various heavily manicured trees and flowers decorating the perimeter. He sipped at his hot mug of chamomile tea, guarding against the cold and hoping beyond hope that maybe he'd be visited once more by his new masked man.

Wait... he wasn't really his right? That was crazy! 

Rusty shook the thought from his head. They were... friends, yes, just friends of course. Sure, maybe his heart thundered in his chest whenever he was near and maybe the man sure liked swooping in and surprising him with hot-and-heavy make out sessions but still... they weren't technically a thing.

There was also the unfortunate truth of the matter, who the man behind the mask was, behind the vision that he just refused to deal with. He took another sip of the hot liquid, enjoying the warmth of the mug on his hands.

He wondered if the man were going to show up at all since it was nearing 10pm already. Something inside him warned not to get his hopes up but he shook the thought loose.

He'd come. He would.

…

The Monarch sat at his dinner table opposite 21 and his ever-patient, ever-lovely wife. He took a sip of red wine from his glass, eyes on his partner who seemed rather exhausted for some reason.

“What's your problem?” He barked at him, feeling too on edge to even try to keep up an appearance of kindness.

“Just... not sleeping well, I guess.” The man shrugged, poking at his rice and beans disinterestedly.

Dr. Mrs. The Monarch was busy on her phone, angrily scrolling upward with her pointer finger. The Monarch stared at her, feeling more and more annoyed as each second ticked on.

Tick. Tick. Speaking of ticking, that obnoxiously loud clock hung above him on the wall was surely going to give him a stroke. He turned and glared at the loud red and black nature of it, then noticing the time and how late it was getting, wondered if he could think up an appropriate excuse to leave.

Suddenly, his wife snapped to attention, remembering once more that she was not alone at the table. “Oh! Uh, did you say something sweetie?”

“No.” He replied flatly and downed more of his wine.

“I uh... I was just saying that I haven't been getting a lot of sleep.”

“Oh? Have you tried that melatonin stuff?” She asked, taking her glass of white wine in hand to sip as well.

21 just shrugged. “Oh, uh no. I dunno, I'm not big into stuff like that.”

“It's really good for you! Helps settle the mind down at night.” She shrugged.

The Monarch made a show of pushing back his plate, despite it still being half full of food and downed his wine. “Ah! Well, that was lovely, honeybuns! As always!”

“Oh, I uh... I actually didn't make dinner. 21 did!”

His henchman gave him a shy smile and a shrug.

“Oh. Well... uh, good job.” The Monarch lamely patted his shoulder before quickly exiting the kitchen.

…

Rusty sat staring up at the stars, or at the few that were visible among Manhattan's ever brilliant skyline.

It was colder now, the temperature dropping more and more as the night progressed. He'd ventured inside to grab a large blanket to wrap around himself but other than that, he'd been sitting in the same chair for what seemed like hours.

It was cold sure, but he preferred it over being inside. Something about their new home rubbed him the wrong way. It was ridiculous really, it was all he had ever wanted!

A big, beautiful home, his family all together, to live in New York, everything he'd wanted he'd gotten finally, minus the loss of his brother of course. Why wasn't he happy?

No, the thought of going inside and talking with his sons was no more appealing than sitting through those stupid board meetings he'd had to endure when first moving to the city. As much as it filled him with a deep shame, it was just the way he felt. Things had felt off for a while, really ever since moving here but Rusty had just thought the new life would take getting used to.

He was wrong.

He shivered, pulling the blanket closer around himself. He sat back against the chair, shutting his eyes and imagining M arriving on his rooftop once more. He imagined him taking him in his arms and “rescuing” him, flying off to god-knows-where, somewhere else entirely, where his responsibilities couldn't get him.

Yeah... he liked this reality better.

…

“What are you doing?” 

“Huh?!” The Monarch exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his skin at the sound of his wife entering their bedroom. “Oh uh... nothin'.”

She gave him a critical look but decided to drop it. “Well, I'm beat. I'm gonna get ready for bed. What about you?” 

He watched as she made her way into the bathroom, beginning her nightly routine. Glancing at the open window in defeat, he sighed. “Uh, yeah... I guess, I guess so.”

“You alright?”

He sat down on the bed to think. He had wanted to make his way out to the city, though at this time of night, what with the bus' crazy schedule, he'd probably waited way too late to leave. Then there was the matter of his spouse. “Yeah... of course, honey. Why wouldn't I be?”

A beat passed as he continued staring at the dresser drawers in front of him. Sheila reentered from the bathroom, now changed into her nightgown, robe and slippers, her hair tied back in it's bonnet. “You sound upset. You sure?”

He gave her a small smile, touched by her caring nature and enamored by her cute get-up. “Yes, I'm sure. Just... stress, I guess. You know, the whole villainy thing isn't really working out.”

She sat down next to him on the edge of the bed. “I know, sweetie. But... it'll pick up. You know, it's very hard starting over. That's why so many people just stay stuck in ruts and just circling the drain forever.” She shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. “But you're not like that. You're strong enough to admit mistakes when you have them. You know what you want and you aren't afraid to go get it.”

The Monarch smiled at her, her words ringing truer than she could ever possibly know. “Yeah... you're right. I know what I need to do. It'll be okay.”

If she sensed they were having two conversations, she didn't show it. She gave him an easy smile before climbing under the covers. He set about getting changed in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and staring in the mirror in deep contemplation.

After he was through, he sank beneath the covers next to his wife and stared at the ceiling in the darkness. Sheila already asleep, The Monarch wondered if when the time came, he'd have the balls to do it, to cut himself from the rut he had found himself in.

Change was a hell of a thing.


End file.
